


Psychopomp

by Shadowheartdesigns (shadowkitten)



Category: Princess Principal (Anime)
Genre: Afterlife, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Science Fiction, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:29:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25440922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowkitten/pseuds/Shadowheartdesigns
Summary: Prefect was the very last person Dorothy expected to see, but there she was, offering to take her away.
Relationships: Dorothy MacBean/Prefect
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	Psychopomp

The office was dimly lit by a sliver of thin, yellowish light seeping in through the mostly-closed blind. It was empty except for a heavy oak desk and a thickly padded leather chair. A painting on the wall behind the desk depicted an older gentleman in a slightly old-fashioned suit.

The door to the office opened, and Dorothy peeked in. She slipped through and closed it silently behind her.

She winked up at the painting. "Just be a moment sweetheart."

She moved slowly and carefully across to the desk. The surface held an extinguished oil lamp, a small wooden globe, a set of fountain pens, and a feather quill beside an ink pot.

She ran her fingers along the surface of the globe, then when she was satisfied it was solid and uninteresting, she turned her attention to the desk drawers. They were locked. As expected.

She pushed the chair out of her way and knelt down. Then she fished a set of lockpicks from a pouch at her hips. The central drawer under the desk opened easily, but held only more office supplies.

Dorothy sighed. "Couldn't just shove 'em in here, huh?"

She shook her head, and started to work the lock on the larger, side drawer.

It was a subtle feeling at first. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Then she felt goosebumps along her arms and legs. The rich brass of the drawer handle seemed to fade to a thin silvery white.

Dorothy took a deep breath. She set her lockpicks down on the ground, and drew her shotgun out of its holster. She peeked up over the edge of the desk.

A young woman stood in the room, in front of the desk. In the dim light, Dorothy could see that she wore a body-suit of a material Dorothy couldn't identify. It didn't look entirely like cloth, but certainly wasn't leather or metal. And where the rest of the room was entirely colorless, even where the thin light from outside lamps brushed the walls, the woman's clothing was a colorful, pale aqua.

"Hello Dorothy," the woman said.

Dorothy blinked, and swallowed. After a moment's hesitation, she stood up. Despite her initial impulse to hide underneath the desk.

The woman had dark hair cut in a short, neat style that framed a hauntingly familiar face.

"Prefect," Dorothy whispered.

The woman sighed. "I am gratified that you remember, though I do wish you could use my name."

"But," Dorothy stammered. "I mean, how?"

"There isn't really time to go into detail, I'm afraid. Not at this moment."

Dorothy swallowed again, uncertain what to do. This was the very last person she ever expected to see, after all.

Prefect held out a hand, gloved with the same material as the rest of her outfit. "Please, come with me. Do not be afraid."

"I've," Dorothy began. "I've heard this one before. So I guess I'm dead, then."

"As I have said, now is not the time for an explanation. I do promise to explain when we have the chance."

Dorothy nodded slowly. "Yeah. I mean ... I guess this means there's a heaven at least. Or are you leading me to hell instead?"

A thin smile crossed Prefect's lips. "I believe that I led you there once before."

Dorothy chuckled bitterly. "Something like that, yeah."

After another moment of hesitation, she set her gun down on the desk. "Guess I don't need this?"

"Indeed not."

Dorothy nodded, and moved around the desk, as well as rubbery knees would allow. She reached out, again hesitating a moment, then grasped Prefect's hand.

The material was warm like human skin, and soft and flexible. It felt solid in a way cloth was not, and it conveyed Prefect's touch in a way Dorothy couldn't explain.

There was a brief moment of disorientation, and nausea. Dorothy's knees started to give out beneath her, but rather than collapsing to the ground, she found herself settling into a chair.

She was in a well-lit room with off-white walls and a pale blue carpet. A low transparent table that didn't look like it was made of glass was in the middle, and several more chairs sat around it. Like the one Dorothy sat on, they were made of a light but sturdy material she didn't recognize.

Prefect stood beside her, still tightly clasping her hand.

"Um. What?"

"I understand that this is quite a lot to take in. Believe me, I was highly confused myself. Terrified even, given the circumstances."

Dorothy nodded slowly. "Yeah. I ... I guess I can see that."

She took a deep breath, and looked around the room. There wasn't anything else to see.

"At this point, it would be advisable to relax. Would you like something to drink?"

"Whisky. Strong as you got."

Prefect laughed quietly. "Well, I'm afraid alcohol is not advisable, but I can give you something that will calm your nerves."

Dorothy nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Prefect released Dorothy's hand, and ran her fingers along the wall beside them. Noiselessly, a rectangular portion slid outward, revealing a tray with a pair of glasses and a bottle of light pink liquid. Prefect screwed the cap off the bottle, and poured even amounts into both glasses, before handing one to Dorothy. "Cheers."

"Yeah." Dorothy took an experimental sip of the fluid. It had a vaguely strawberry flavor, sweet but not overwhelming.

Prefect sat down beside Dorothy. "So, I would imagine that you have questions."

"Yeah. So, um. First, I guess I'm dead?"

"Not precisely."

Dorothy frowned. "How am I not dead _precisely_?"

"Well," Prefect sighed, "your life has not necessarily ended."

"Can you please just answer the question?"

"Relax Dorothy, I intend to do just that. You have been removed from your natural moment in the time-stream, as was I."

"Time stream?" Dorothy scowled. "Sounds like H.G. Wells stuff."

"You are not entirely incorrect. Well, I shall explain by telling you my story. That may help."

"Yeah," Dorothy nodded. She slammed down the rest of her drink. "Yeah, that might."

"Please feel free to help yourself," she said gesturing to the bottle of pink liquid.

As Dorothy poured more into her glass, Prefect began her story.

"The last time that we were together, I had decided to end my life. I raised my gun to my head, intending to pull the trigger. At that moment, time stopped. I felt goosebumps upon my flesh, and the world lost all color."

Dorothy nodded. "Yeah."

I believed that I was merely experiencing the last thoughts before my brain was destroyed by the bullet. In that moment, it was merciful, as your face was the last thing that I would see, or so I believed. Instead, a young woman appeared in the cabin beside me. 'Come with me,' she said. Or words to that effect."

"Huh."

"I lowered the gun and stood up. Or rather, that is what I intended to do. In fact, I could see myself still seated, the gun against my head and my finger moments away from pulling the trigger."

Dorothy looked confused. "You saw yourself?"

"As you would have, had you chanced to look down behind the desk. Regardless, like you I asked the woman if I were dead."

"And like you she told you to wait?"

"Indeed. I took her hand, and she transported me to a room much like this one. Unlike you, I was far less calm due to the circumstances. I was so distraught, in fact, that I had to be sedated."

Dorothy nodded slowly. "I guess I understand why."

"When I came to, it was explained to me that I was rescued from time, at the moment before my death."

"Why? How?"

"I cannot answer to the how. It is a technological marvel that is many centuries beyond what either of us knows. As to the why? Well, why not? If you could have rescued me through the use of time travel, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah," Dorothy whispered.

"The good people of this time are capable of such rescues, and carry them out regularly."

"Wait," Dorothy said slowly. She blinked. "Wait, is _everyone_ here?"

Prefect sighed and closed her eyes. "It is not that simple."

"So they don't save everyone?"

"They have a distinct set of priorities."

"So that's a no?"

Prefect opened her eyes, frowning. "No, it is not a no. Nor is it a yes. At this moment in time, from the perspective of this society, not all humans that have existed have been rescued from death. Will they all? I cannot say, for I am not privy to their decision-making. Can they all? In theory, yes."

Dorothy drank down a glass of liquid, then poured out more. "This is a lot to take in."

"Of course it is."

Dorothy looked down into her glass. Swirled it slowly. Her lips pursed. "So that's what you mean when you say I'm not precisely dead. You pulled me out right before I died."

"Well, it is a little more complex than that."

"How?"

"Not to go into detail, but your death is not certain."

"I don't understand. This is the future?"

"Yes, it is."

"But you don't know for certain if I died?"

"Yours is a special case, Dorothy. Your death is not certain, but your presence here ... well," Prefect's cheeks reddened, and she shrugged. "It is not coincidental that I retrieved you after all."

"You're talking in circles again."

"I petitioned to be allowed to rescue you."

"You did?"

"Yes. They approved my petition."

"Apparently." Dorothy finished her drink, and shook her head. "I still don't get it."

"It is a tremendous amount of information to take in, and to process."

"So what happens now?"

"That, Dorothy, is up to you. At least in part."

"How?"

"You ought to get some sleep."

Dorothy's eyes widened in surprise. "Sleep?"

"Yes. Most persons who experience temporal transit benefit from a good night's sleep."

"I feel like I've fallen into a pulp novel."

"Says the schoolgirl spy who is friends with a princess and a girl who can fly."

Dorothy shrugged.

"In any case, I recommend sleep. When you awaken, I shall show you the world."

"Guided tour of heaven?"

Prefect grinned. "Something of the sort, yes."

* * *

Dorothy hadn't expected that she would fall asleep. Prefect had, somehow, opened a door or panel or something in the room she had been taken to, revealing a small but comfortable bed. The covers were soft and smooth, like silk, but not slippery. They were very thin, but warm

When her eyes opened again, the room was dimly lit, and Prefect wasn't around.

Dorothy yawned, and sat up slowly. The light brightened, and she saw a small table had been set beside the bed. It held what looked like a shirt in some kind of clear wrapping paper. Dorothy yawned again, shifted, and picked it up.

The wrapping was thin film. Dorothy tore it away, and unfolded what turned out to be a dark green bodysuit, similar to the one Prefect wore.

It took her a moment to figure out how the suit worked: there was a nearly invisible seam running down the back, and Dorothy found she could pull it open and seal it closed. It covered her from toes to neck, including her hands, and was surprisingly comfortable. It was warm and soft, conforming to the curves of her body without clinging or bunching. She experimentally ran her gloved fingers along the bedsheets, and found that her sense of touch wasn't blocked.

She yawned again, and ambled out of the bedchamber, into the room with the table and seats. A full bottle of light blue liquid sat on the shelf in the wall, beside two fresh glasses.

She sat down and opened the bottle. Another new experience, since the screw-top lid was fastened tight to the body. It took some force to open it.

She was sipping her drink thoughtfully, when another section of wall slid open, and Prefect stepped through.

"Good morning," she said with a smile.

"Morning," Dorothy replied. "Don't suppose they have coffee here?"

Prefects smile widened. "They do, in fact. If you would like we can go to breakfast."

Dorothy grinned and stood up. "First good words I've heard in a long time. I'm famished."

"Well, we cannot have that. Come along. Though I must warn you, things are considerably different from what you remember."

"I bet. Flying cars, right? Or do you use pneumatic tube elevators?"

Prefect laughed quietly. "No, neither one. Well, you'll see. Come along."

Dorothy set her glass on the table and followed.

"By the way," Prefect said, "that outfit suits you."

"Doesn't it? I mean, Id rather show more skin .…"

"Why am I not surprised."

"But this feels great."

"Well, if you stay here, we shall look into giving you a custom suit that matches your, _ahem_ , fashion sense."

"If?"

Prefects cheeks reddened. "I mean ... as I said, you have a choice."

Dorothy didn't respond, not certain what to say.

They walked down a short, well-lit corridor with off white walls and blue carpet. It ended in a heavy metallic door the same color as the walls.

Prefect placed her hand on the wall beside the door, and it swung open without a sound.

"After you," Prefect said with a thin smile and very shallow bow.

Dorothy stepped through, and found herself on a wide metal walkway. The air was fresh and slightly cool. She took a very deep breath, and walked slowly to the railing along the edge.

A deep blue sky stretched above, and far, far below was the Earth in shades of green and brown and pale blue. Between land and sky were tall, narrow buildings that seemed to float in mid-air, with a fine metallic lace of walkways and cables between them. The buildings were in a myriad of colors, some shiny and some matte. Dorothy could only think of them as resembling Christmas tree ornaments.

"Beautiful," she whispered.

"That was my first thought."

Dorothy turned back to Prefect with a smile. "So, this is the Earth now?"

"We are in the city of London, approximately three thousand years after the time of our births."

"Huh." She couldn't think of anything more profound or sarcastic to say.

Prefect reached out. "Come, I'll show you around."

"Tour of heaven. Right."

She took Prefect's hand. The warmth, the feeling, of her skin was conveyed through their suits. Dorothy couldn't figure out how that was possible, and she suspected somehow that Prefect had no idea either.

They took a leisurely stroll along the extended walkway, from the building Dorothy had arrived at, towards a taller and wider one a little distance off. It was a pale, matte blue.

There were other pedestrians, walking singly or in small groups. Most wore similar bodysuits, though a few wore dresses or outfits that seemed to reveal more than they concealed. Dorothy and Prefect were greeted several times, and everyone seemed friendly.

"So," Dorothy began.

"Yes?"

"Am I allowed to ask more questions?"

"Of course. Though I am forced to admit that I will be unable to answer them all."

"Because you don't know, or because you aren't allowed?"

"I am allowed to answer all questions that I can. If I'm unable to answer, it's because I don't know. I must confess, there are some subjects that I am not permitted to know about."

"Because telling me would be a problem?"

"Those of us rescued are given only sparing details of history."

"Why?"

Prefect sighed. "Time travel is a reality in this era, Dorothy. While it is not permissible to use it for purposes other than rescue ... well, I needn't tell you not all people remain within the bounds of the permitted."

"Oh. So people have tried to change the past?"

"I can only presume so. I haven't been told of any specific cases, though it does stand to reason."

"Yeah." Dorothy said slowly. "I guess for that same reason, I can't find out if we won?"

"I don't know the answer to that either."

"So, this country's name isn't a clue?"

"London is a city in the Albion district of the Europe province of Earth. And Earth in turn is but a state in a larger confederation."

"All human?"

Prefect chuckled. "No."

"Any black lizards?" Dorothy asked with a grin.

Prefect regarded her fondly. "There are several species that could match that description."

"Ange will love it here."

Prefect's smile faltered.

"I mean," Dorothy hurriedly said, "when and if she gets here."

Prefect took a deep breath. "Well, we've arrived."

Dorothy looked up, where a clear section of roof allowed a view of the pale blue building. It stretched for what seemed miles, towering above them into the sky. Experimentally, she glanced down over the rail. The building seemed just as large below them.

"Huh."

"Indeed. Shall we?"

After a breakfast of coffee, eggs, bacon, pancakes, and julienne potatoes, they went to a museum of human history. One side effect of the culture Dorothy found herself in was the selective censorship of information. They were able to enter the hall of Early Albion Culture freely, but found themselves restricted from the Late Nineteenth and Early Twentieth Century exhibits. In fact, they were blocked from most of the Twentieth Century entirely. Dorothy found her curiosity burning with unexpected intensity, but had to make do with a carefully-curated audio-visual presentation of mid 20th to early 21st century art, music, and culture.

After a few hours of looking, Prefect led them both to a small vehicle that looked somewhat like a car, somewhat like a train.

"You said you didn't have flying cars?" Dorothy teased.

"These are not cars."

"Cavorite airships?"

"Obsolete technology. Nor do they fly."

"Huh. How's it work?"

"I haven't a clue. I only know they do, and there have been no accidents involving them in the last two centuries."

They climbed in. The interior was sparse, consisting only of four chairs and a backlit panel that showed a map of London. Their current location was marked by a flashing circle.

"Destination?" asked a clear, feminine voice.

"The Regency Tea Room," Prefect stated.

After a moment, there was a pleasant sounding chime, and the door to the vehicle closed. The vehicle began to move at what had to be a great speed, though Dorothy didn't feel it. It was like they were sitting still, with images to simulate movement projected onto the windows around them.

"Regency Tea Room?"

"It's a very nice restaurant, modeled after a parlor of the early 19th century. I'd take you to The Victoriana, but .…"

"Not allowed to get so close to my own time?"

"Unfortunately not."

Dorothy laughed. "Well, if it serves authentic period cuisine, then it's no loss."

Prefect laughed as well. "It's actually quite delicious. And no, it does not restrict itself to 'authentic Victorian cuisine.' The name has more to do with the decor."

"Hm. You've been there?"

Prefect nodded. "Since I was unable to return to my ... to our time."

"Huh. So it has spoilers?"

Prefect sighed. "There are portraits of Princess Charlotte, and they contain ... details you are not currently privy to. It's nothing that you could use to change the past even if you were to return but ... let's just say they might alter your impression of the Princess unduly."

"Now you have me curious."

"I shall sate that curiosity of yours one day."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

* * *

They spent the early evening on a balcony unknown miles above the surface of the earth. A cool breeze blew. Prefect scooted just a touch closer to Dorothy, who put her arm over her shoulder.

"Cold?"

"It is a little chilly."

"Hm."

Dorothy gave her a quick squeeze, and Prefect leaned against her.

"So. What happens now?"

"What do you want to happen?

Dorothy was quiet for a moment. She looked up into the clear sky above. "I don't know."

"Well, you needn't decide just yet. There's no real time limit."

"What about us?"

Prefect sat up, and turned to face Dorothy.

"That also depends on what you want."

"I mean ... we get a second chance."

"Yes."

Dorothy looked into her eyes. Cupping her chin, running a finger down her jawline.

"I mean ... can we?"

Prefect smiled. "We can do whatever you'd like."

They stared at one another for long minutes. As uncertain as Dorothy felt, the moment wasn't awkward. It was ... difficult to explain. This was a chance no one got.

"Do you, um, have a place?"

Prefect laughed. "What a question. Of course I have a place. As have you, if you want it."

"I think so. I mean, for tonight. Right?"

"Right."

After another moment of hesitation, Dorothy leaned forward. Their lips touched. Dorothy's eyes closed.

There was nothing else in the world in that moment. No sensations but the feeling of her soft, supple lips. The warmth of her body so very close. The scent of vanilla. The taste, just the trace of a taste of wine.

The kiss broke. The wind picked up. Dorothy's hair blew behind her. Prefect burrowed herself into Dorothy's arms.

* * *

"Eleanor?"

They were cocooned in warmth together. Thin sheets over their bodies that pressed together. Arms around one another.

"You _do_ remember my name."

The soft touch of Eleanor's lips on Dorothy's bare shoulder.

"Yeah."

"Dorothy?"

"I want to stay."

"Really?"

"But .…"

Eleanor sighed, heavily. "But what?"

"I can't."

Eleanor shifted. Her gaze met Dorothy's. "Cannot or will not?"

"Cannot. It isn't my time yet, is it?"

"I ... suppose it isn't."

"I didn't think so. You kept talking in circles before. I mean, if I was dead and buried, you would just say that, right?"

"Yes," Eleanor whispered.

"So by not just saying that .…"

"Dorothy, in very rare cases, a human's precise time of death is not certain. When I shot myself, there was no doubt. In some cases, a very few cases, a person's death is uncertain enough that they are given the choice. Remain here, or return."

"So that's my choice. Why, though? I mean, why give me a choice? Is it meaningful? If this is the future, then they already know what I did, don't they? If I go back I get the chance to ... do more. If I don't .…"

"Dorothy, you aren't wrong. I simply do not know the answer. I asked to be permitted to rescue you from death. I was informed there was a moment of uncertainty. A near-death experience, as they say. I was permitted to rescue you, to show you this life. To ... to love you. But, I had to honor your decision."

"I'm a little disturbed that they don't tell you more. I mean, who is _they_ anyway?"

"I cannot say."

Dorothy sighed again. "I do love you, Eleanor."

"And I you, Dorothy."

Dorothy leaned forward and they kissed. Brief but tender.

"I'll be back one day though. Right?"

"Yes."

Dorothy said nothing.

"You needn't decide right now. You needn't decide tomorrow. Or next week. or next year."

"Eleanor .…"

"Time travel, Dorothy. you can delay your decision a century if you choose."

"You live that long?"

"Yes. Longer. There is an expression that says, 'age is but a number.' That, now, is literally true."

"The longer I stay the less likely that I'll return."

"That is true."

Dorothy kissed Eleanor again. "I guess I'll wait. A little bit. A day or two."

* * *

A week passed. Dorothy and Eleanor spent nearly every minute together. They explored the world, as far as they were able. They ate breakfast watching the sun brush the horizon over the North Pole, and swam in the warm waters of the South Pacific ocean, and made love in a bubble of warmth and safety in the endless Antarctic winter night.

And then the day came at last where Dorothy had come to her decision.

"I have to go back."

"I am not surprised."

"Disappointed?"

Eleanor shook her head. "No. Not really. They need you, don't they?"

Dorothy smirked. "Ange wouldn't know what to do with herself without me to keep her in line."

Eleanor chuckled. "I wonder if it is really you that keeps her in line, or the reverse."

Dorothy shook her head.

"But," Eleanor whispered. "I will miss you. I don't know how long it will be. You may return tomorrow, or it may be a thousand years."

"I guess I don't know either, huh? Might be a day, or a decade, or longer."

"Don't take any unnecessary risks. Just because you know I am here, don't throw your life away."

"I won't."

"Thank you, Dorothy. I mean, for everything."

"Thank you, Eleanor. For everything.

They returned to the room that Eleanor had first brought her to. They embraced and kissed one last time.

"So ... how does this work?"

"You needn't do anything."

" _They_ know already, huh?"

"It isn't quite that sinister. I reported your decision. When you return to stay, you'll learn how everything works."

"Yeah. So ... I just relax?"

"Yes."

Dorothy nodded. She sighed. "I love you."

"I love you as well."

She stood in place another minute. Their hands were clasped. Then at last, Dorothy let go, turning away.

"Alright. Well, let's get this over with then."

There wasn't any transition.

Dorothy found herself waking up from a deep sleep. She heard the sound of her own heart. Of her breathing. Of quiet talking very close to her.

Her eyes opened. The light was overpowering, and she closed them again with a wince.

"Dorothy!"

"Beato?"

"Thank God you're alright."

"Charlotte? You ... you guys all here?"

"Yes," Chise said.

"Where else would we be?" That was Ange.

Dorothy opened her eyes slowly. She saw four blurry shapes that resembled her friends, backed by an off-white ceiling. She was laying on a vaguely uncomfortable cot. A hospital room, most lilely.

She blinked and her friends' faces came into focus.

"Hey. Um. How long was I out?"

"Twenty hours! Really, you ought to be more careful."

"Were you worried for me, Beato? How cute."

Beatrice's cheeks reddened. "Really, even I'm not that careless."

"What happened?" Dorothy asked. She cleared her throat.

"You've water by your side," Charlotte said helpfully.

Dorothy sat up, slowly, and nodded thanks. She took a long drink as she listened.

"An assassin hired by the Kingdom attempted to kill you," Ange said. "He was even more careless than you however."

"I'm not shot. Or stabbed."

"The coward used poison gas," Chise snarled. "He had the nerve to beg for his life when we took him."

"Kill him?" Dorothy asked offhand.

"We were more concerned to save you," Charlotte answered. "Thankfully, the poison dose was weak. Even so, it was near run for a time."

Dorothy nodded. "Yeah. Takes more than a little poison to get rid of me."

The door opened, and a nurse peeked in. "You've awakened?"

"Yeah. Seems like."

"I was just about to check on you. I'm sorry, the doctor will want to examine Ms MacBean so I will have to ask you to leave."

"Of course. Dorothy, we will be back as soon as we can," Charlotte said.

"Thanks guys."

The others filed out. Except for Ange. The nurse glanced at her, and nodded after a moment. She left, closing the door behind her.

"Dorothy, I didn't want to say anything around the others .…"

"Were you worried?" Dorothy asked with a smug grin.

"I was relieved to have a few hours of peace and quiet."

"Liar."

Ange frowned. "I was worried."

"I'm fine."

"You kept mumbling."

"Mumbling?"

"Prefect. Eleanor."

Dorothy blinked. "Did ... did I?"

"Yes. I wonder, did you see anything while you were out?"

"What do you mean _see_?"

Ange stared at her for another moment, then shook her head. "It's nothing. I am glad you're alive, Dorothy."

"Yeah. Yeah, me too."


End file.
